Date: Thu, 22 Mar 2007 13:58:52 +0000
From: Drin Whethers
Subject: Royal Nightmare - Finale
ROYAL NIGHTMARE -- 6 (Final)
By Cobradelight
M/M, B&Dm etc
Previously....After toiling on a fishing boat for two weeks I had been looking
forward to returning to the estate. Instead I was taken to the one huge
farm in the country, an oasis that grew enough food for everyone. This was
a terrifying place, not because of savage treatment or terrifying tortures
but for that natural manner in which slaves were a part of the culture. All
slaves were foreign here and the emphasis was on production, hard work and
discipline. It was a new life I'd never imagine. I'd assumed that slaves
in Arab lands would serve in palaces, dance and entertain, live a life
slightly less fulfilling than a servant. This was a new world where a
straight-talking 21 year old American was in charge. His brusque but cheery
manner along with his refusal to harbor any disobedience was a constant,
ominous threat.
Now...I faced each day with new trepidation at what my stay at the oasis would
bring. The hired hands were local guys from the countryside who enjoyed the
male camaraderie and high wages. Sometimes more than one slave went with us
and for a while I'd have some companionship and a chance to trade news. My
humiliation on that first day was so overwhelming I literally shook when I
thought about it. Having to stand silently with my cock pumping ferociously
while Jones calmly questioned me like a school kid was so difficult yet what
option did I have?
The first night, after I ate, Jones took me to the underground of the
central building in the middle of the estate. My eyes bulged when we walked
into the huge room. Two rows of raised platforms at a 30 degree angle lined
both walls of the long space. A slave rested face-down on each platform.
"If you're good, you simply have your arms by your side. Punished slaves
have their wrists buckled overhead and are spread. It looked like a sea of
men - broad tanned backs, powerful shoulders, round, athletic butts, hairy
cracks and strong furry legs. What caught my attention was the large oval
cut in the middle of each bed where crotches would rest. They made sure we
would not obtain sexual relief at night.
I winced at the punished men with their drawn-up knees. They looked so
exposed. Their swollen scrotums and unrelieved cocks hung heavily. I could
see the tiny pink anus on those with a smooth crack and sometimes the little
opening peeked thru thick patches of tiny ringlets. I trembled when I saw
that each punished slave had a bright red bottom and I took a breath as a
chill ran through me -- I was the same. My eyes were wide as saucers and my
teeth chattered. I turned to Jones with a look of utter shock - surely this
would not be my fate. When he grinned and gave my blazing rump a little
pinch I exhaled thru my tightly clenched teeth and felt my chest clutch.
"You got lots of company, Jere." He chuckled at my reaction and for the
first time I noticed night guards watching closely, ready to pounce at the
slightest hint of rebellion. I was firmly shoved toward an empty "bed".
Every man's head rested on a large, white pillow, a nice almost tender
touch. He stood silently, watching me as I took in the cuffs, hole and
pillow with a growing awareness. As I climbed onto the bed I heard soft
snores, groans, sobs, heavy breathing, sounds of frustrated men helpless in
their desperate need.
The sheet smelled clean as I pressed against the mattress. The oval started
right below my chest and I felt my crotch suspended in midair. My cock hung
heavily and Jones rubbed up and down my spine, grazing my scorched buttocks.
"Think what this place is like when the lights go out, Jere. Mr. Daniels
wife insists on only handsome, masculine guys -- no poofs." I looked around
at the slaves and noticed their muscularity and hard, distraught faces.
"Fifty guys without relief for days listen to each other's pants and groans
and vain attempts to come without touching. You dream pussy and your cock
is one stroke from bursting. Sound like fun, right Guido?" He spoke to the
man next to me. I could not see but heard a low "yes sir"/
"I like to stand and listen to the band." I looked puzzled but he laughed
and squeezed my shoulder and told me I'd understand. "Guido's from Florence
so I'm collecting cream for his pizza." He held up a jar with some fluid
inside. I watched as he set it on the ground, positioning it under the poor
guy and then I understood. I shuddered at the mere thought of this horrible
action.
"Don't worry, this is a special case, he tried to leave our happy family.
Tracked him down thru his little implant and then we had a little talk with
some of the guards. You're not trying that again, are you pal?" The
choked response was almost drowned out by the pounding in my ears as my
heart raced louder when two local young men took hold of my legs and pulled
my knees upward. I felt myself opened, spread wide, then my hands were
buckled above my head -- the punishment position.
Despite my fatigue, a tingle raced up and down my spine as I lay there and
when he began adjusting the tethers so I could be more "comfortable" the
flush of shame roared anew. Unconsciously my ass tightened when he stood
behind me. His palm rested on my scorched, quivering behind. I twitched and
he got a firm pinch with an order to "Keep still!" His voice indicated he
was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. I burned silently and
quivered at the casualness of his touch. He hunkered down on his tiptoes,
face to face, and lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and slowly blew out
the smoke, his palm resting on the red flesh. My mind raced and insides
churned. He knelt silently as he smoked for perhaps five minutes before he
spoke.
"This is your lucky day, Jere. Tomorrow is the Muslim church day so you got
a day off from the fields and that gives your ass time to heal until the
next round." I flinched at those words "the next round" and keened when his
palm idly stroked the curved underside of my bottom -- the touch so utterly
denigrating from this clean cut young man with a cigarette hanging from his
lips. He chuckled and looked to the man beside me.
"How you doing tonight?" He laughed and introduced us. "This is Jere from
Slovenia and damn if you two couldn't be brothers." He looked from one to
the other then reached under and held a dangling scrotum in each palm,
bouncing them lightly and teasing they were about the same weight. "Yep,
brothers I'd say." Guido's face hardened with rage as Jones told his story.
He'd arrived the day after the holy day and thus had to endure a whipping
for six straight days. The man's face was red as a beet, sweat beads on his
lip.
"Folks could hear you bawling a mile away, right?" The man, mid 20's, was
silent but I saw his lips press tightly. Could Jones not tell what effect
these little tales had on me or was this all taken for granted, our
treatment and wounding of our manly pride? He talked about other things,
Guido's escape attempt, his own life in the states, what he wanted to do,
then asked me about my home. He looked tired and I wondered if he knew his
own power. His innate magnetism appealed to women and men, a natural leader
who would fit right in an a fraternity house, heading a covert mission or
addressing salesmen in a corporation. It was here, though, that he was in a
position of authority.
He called to the two lads who'd bound my knees like a frog. I took a sharp
breath when his strong fingers parted the thick hair back there. I could
not have been more exposed when they leaned closer and then, oh my god, he
actually pulled my anus open slightly. I felt the sweat burst on my
forehead as I cried out in shame and for an instant almost lost control. I
heard a "uh hum, fine back here, no harm" and he spoke in Arabic, holding me
open as they chuckled to something he said. He let go, gave my shoulder a
little squeeze and walked out I was utterly shaken. My cock hung heavily,
not stiff but swollen.
I eyed the Arab pair. One carried a bag and the other a jar. I saw fingers
scoop out a clear salve that was slapped on the Italian's red bottom and
rubbed vigorously. The slave grunted and emitted little "ow" sounds. He
had jet black hair and some of the furriest armpits I'd ever seen. He faced
me, air forced rapidly thru his large, full lips. He grated his teeth, his
square jaw dark with the heavy shadow of a two-day old beard. Maybe he was
a professional athlete. I noticed in amazement that the man's large,
swollen cock stirred and then quickly rose until it pointed upwards,
straining for release as he winced under the sharp chafing being
administered. His breathing grew even more ragged and then the Arab moved
to me. The other guy selected something from the bag and showed it to Guido
who whimpered.
I held my breath at the slap to my rump and the thick salve was worked in
well as he hummed a little ditty. The roar of pain was instant as his
steely fingers plied the worn flesh. He coated the back of my legs and as
he drew closer to my anus I began to stiffen, unable to control it. His
finger rubbed closer to my hole and I tried to tighten it, an impossibility
in this splayed position. A finger sunk deep inside, wiggling into the
tight flesh. I bucked, turned my head and yelled. Jones appeared and placed
a finger at my mouth indicating I should not say a word. With difficulty I
grew still as the finger remained deep inside me, motionless until I calmed
down with the finger on my mouth. Jones watched my performance in silence.
The Italian suddenly groaned, shaking his head back and forth, muttering and
gasping, and out of the corner of my eye I saw activity. Then the finger
inside me began wiggling very fast and I squirmed frantically but helplessly
as he sent endless explosions to my brain. My scraped rectum was being well
lubricated.
"Don't move, Jere." Jones was very close, his hand on the back of my neck,
kneading it softly as the Arab fingered vigorously. I was on the very edge
when he quickly pulled out, gave my crimson rump a soft smack and moved to
the next guy. Guido's eyes were shut but that did not prevent the tears
from streaming as he remained silent, biting his lip.
The second Arab now set his bag on the floor and pulled out a leather dildo.
He sat on a stool, leaned forward and grinned at my obvious fear. He kept
selecting various types - wide, knotted, metal, wooden, bristled. He
noticed my reactions to each and finally picked up a rather small (in
comparison) one and rubbed my face with it. I felt the strange cover of
short hairs and a buzz went off in my brain. I tried to turn my head to see
Jones who still held my neck but he pushed down, silently keeping me still.
The tip pushed at my entrance until it popped inside and I moaned. It was
worked deeper in a long slide. I tried not to show any emotions but the
sensation was overpowering, the incredible itch deep in my rectum that was
stuffed with the dildo. The feeling was still so strange -- for three weeks
I'd been impaled a few times but my hole was still so tight. I was not
even aware than my toes were wiggling until Jones touched them. He left
with a chuckle and I bucked my ass up and down a half inch as if that would
help. The Arab sneered and gave me a loud smack as he left, jiggling the
thing inside me. Guido and I locked eyes and then saw each other's prick
jump helplessly. I was racked with spasms from the itch inside me. His
armpits glistened as sweat hung from his thick curls.
As we stared at each other I heard a soft slapping sound and looked down.
His enormous prick was bobbing and tapping his hairy, ribbed abdomen. As
he stared in utter shame I heard a second small series of smack -- my own
erection. My prick stretched for relief and I thrust, hating myself but
unable to stop. A nail traced a line across the moist swollen head and I
bucked and squealed. I looked at Guido and he was staring at my tormented
hardon as another long scrape over the head left me writhing in agony.
It stopped and in the silence I heard my cock whacking my stomach. The men
had a big grin as they stood beside me, satisfied with their efforts. My
cock literally begged for a small touch but I knew there would be no rescue.
Our faces burned as we watched and then heard a third and a fourth
"whack". Incredibly, we got in sync and were joined by other helpless guys.
I understood now -- these rhythmic slaps was Jones's "band".
The next day we scrubbed floors all day inside while the Muslims prayed.
Like an idiot I began arguing with another slave, Lucas, a fair-haired guy
from Croatia, our historical enemy. One thing led to another and soon we
were at blows, rolling around on the floor and knocking over buckets. It
was so fucking stupid and I did not even know his name at the time. We were
so wound up that the slightest spark set us off. The guards waded in and
forced us on our apart and on our backs.
"Grab hold of those toes!" We did so, awkwardly, blushing as the other
slaves chuckled at our ridiculous positions. I berated myself for this and
tried to ignore the growing dread that grew stronger with each passing
minute. At last Jones showed up. He stood over us, looking down with quiet
frown, his eyebrows bunched, hands on hips.
"Tomorrow you two will learn to get along. Now get back to work." I didn't
like the hint of a smile on his face. I finally managed to fall asleep that
night amid worry over my punishment. The next morning I woke was the guard
ordered me up. The cuffs had been removed and I stood with morning wood and
felt a flash of humiliation. The guard hardly noticed which stung even
worse. He led us all to the open toilets and latrines. I stood between
others, trying to piss with my morning hardon. Afterward, we crawled to our
breakfast.
I was forced into line beside the man I'd fought with, Lucas. He was a
little taller than me, lean and fit, in great physical shape. We were still
mad and did not speak but both of us were wary of what was planned. A
platter of steaming food was placed between us by a swaggering guard whose
presence made Lucas freeze. His face lost color and he dared not move.
"Well, Lucas, I see you picked up a boyfriend. You two butt brothers?" I
foolishly muttered a low "fuck off" and he heard.
"You got a big mouth Handsome. If you two are not butt brothers you will be
in a few minutes." The guard placed Lucas' hand on my rump.
"Get that finger in him." His digit immediately worked itself into the
soft, quivering flesh, shocking me and rubbing the curls. My hand was
directed to his anus and soon I was fingering him harshly. I winced from
the touch to my healing rump as well as the fingering. This act touched
something deep inside us yet neither would yield. A hand on the back of our
necks shoved our faces toward the single bowl of mush. Our faces were
pushed together, cheeks rubbing, tongues touching, as we lapped our meal
under the eye of the guard. My body felt violated and I could not help but
squirm.
"Wiggle those fingers or I swear I'll have you on bow-wow duty." It was
rumored that unruly slaves were tied in a dog pen with a pack of dogs in
heat. It was never confirmed but the rumors were persistent. We both
wiggled our fingers and then our butts. I could not help but twitch my rump
and I felt him reacting to my large middle digit. My cock strained
desperately for release but in this position it simply throbbed in midair.
"I bet this is not what you two studs thought you'd be doing a month ago,
right?" The smirking guard did not bother to hide his pleasure at the sight
of us churning. My mouth opened wide in consternation as he knelt to face
our sweaty faces. The sound of our ragged breathing shut out all over
noise. He stood up. "Now get up and keep those fingers in place." He
made us face the other men who were still lapping up the last morsels. The
tension built to an unbelievable level as the men looked up at us.
Jones walked up and I thought for a moment he was our salvation but he
simply pulled out a clean white cloth and rubbed our unshaven faces. We
were allowed to shave once a week. He smiled and placed a red baseball cap
on my head, sitting it at a crazy angle like those dumb rappers. Lucas got
a blue cap and it pointed sideways also. Jones smiled, rubbed our backs and
squeezed our shoulders like we were all best friends.
"You know what they'd call you two in America? Dudes!" He pulled up a
little stool and sat down in front of us, pulling from his pocket a leather
tether. He fit it under my balls and holding my cock out of the way,
buckled it snugly around the base of my cock. Quickly he did the same to
Lucas. Both sets of churning testicles were perched high on either side of
out rock-hard erections. My insides quivered as my anxiety soared. Every
new punishment was as bad as the first one -- I never accepted it. He
stroked my aching balls gently and I felt the tears spring to my eyes. I
could hardly endure the soft touch.
"Position!" My body was slick with sweat, my face burned and my heart
pounded as Lucas and I squatted before the other slaves, plugging one
another. He thrust hard so I returned the favor. Soon we were jabbing each
other fiercely as I struggled to maintain my balance, legs spread, crouching
low, one hand locked behind my head. I looked over and he trembled, utterly
distraught at the turn of event, still furious at me.
"Your weekly leaders!" Jones placed blindfolds on us and turned us to face
the other slaves. The men laughed heartily, delighted that there were at
least two guys lower than them. He turned us around and told them to "fall
in line." The air was filled with groans and popping of joints as the men
lowered themselves like us.
"No, you may walk today -- your leaders will duck paddle for you." I heard a
low cheer of agreement and thanks and we took off. I could only imagine the
sight - two muscular guys, sweaty and naked, blindfolded with upright cocks,
widespread legs, inching forward slowly in a squat as we jabbed deep into
each other. His harsh gulps of air indicated he was close to breaking.
Either of us would have preferred a beating to this shame. It was
something we could not comprehend. It would break down the strongest man in
a matter of days if not hours. We groaned and gasped and when it became too
much I heard a deep, manly sob from beside me. That affected me and I also
let out a sob and began inhaling and exhaling in huge gasps in a vain
attempt to forestall my tears.
"Dude, how you doing?" Jones was in a jolly mood. I looked straight ahead
with trembling lips, not seeing, as I painfully crept forwards, splayed open
like a lizard. He pulled my cap down with a jerk and squeezed my arm. He
drew closer.
"Dude, I asked you a question." His hand gave my rump a harsh pinch and I
jumped and tried to escape but he laughed and caught up. He repeated his
question and I managed to get out a breathless "fine". When he asked if I
hated him I shook my head from side to side. He was beside me and from
behind I heard sounds of local workers drawing close. I braced myself for
their attention.
"Hey, it's the Basket Man -- I'd recognize that prick anywhere." I
hurried,
mortified at the attention from these men. "Hey, slow down." The man and
his buddy settled into step beside me. I felt him grab Lucas's hand and jab
it into me. I jumped and cried out. This was met with a round of chuckles
from several men.
"You two engaged?" A gale of laughter greeted that question as I burned
and moved with increasing difficulty. I attempted to hurry faster, trying
to follow Jones as he talked on his cell. The men were excited that I was
back and another basket would be there. They chose teams for an all-day
veggie-throwing contest and were eager to start. I felt like my inner being
was taken thru a shredder. Always eager for a joke, a worker spoke.
"We have two Basket Men and they're "up" for the task, right?" Someone
slapped my shoulder and tugged on my sweaty pubic curls, laughing then
running forward. I heard Lucas receive a manly slap on his back and a
genuine welcome extended. My blindfold caught my tears and my lips quivered
as I tried to remain silent. We trekked and Jones walked beside Lucas,
talking to Lucas in low tones.
"There's nothing wrong with crying. Every slave working at the oasis has
had illusions of toughness and pride but that is all behind us now. Isn't
that right, Jere?" I bowed my head, pressing my lips so tight together and
nodded. "Despite that highclass background you and Jere are doing really
good!" He sounded so damn sincere. "We're using proven methods for
instilling the proper spirit. You're both holding up fine." Incredibly he
asked the workers if they agreed and they enthusiastically did.
"Yeah, sure is." "Hell yeah, he's got one tough ass." "Remember that
guy
from Ukraine who started bawling as soon as he saw the basket?" A stranger
squeezed my arm. "You keep that prick standing tall like a good slave." I
heard the soft sobs from Lucas and then an unmistakable sob escaped my lips.
Hands rubbed my back and head, gave me some squeezes and slaps, telling me
to hang in there. My thighs ached dreadfully, my rectum was being goosed by
a large digit and I longed to rise. Jones rubbed his large palm over my
sweaty back in an attempt to calm me down but that only made it worse. I
jumped at the loud pop of a strap in the back of the pack.
"You two know not to talk -- get back here!" The pleas and explanations were
cut short by another crack of the strap. The young guard, an Irishman with
a brogue, reminded them that he'd given a warning. "Position, you two!"
Another sharp snap of leather followed as we all held our breath. I trembled
even harder as we continued. The loud smacks in the back made me jump.
"Don't you try to raise that ass, Wilson!" Crack! The licks shattered the
morning calm as we trudged. Then it was quiet but for the agonized sounds
from front and back of this line of naked men. The sun was already hot and
it was only still early. The breeze caressed my body teasing every private
place. The finger felt like sandpaper inside me, sending rough chills to my
nerves.
One by one the slaves were left at their destination until only we two
remained. At last we arrived and were allowed to stand and separated, our
fingers pulled out. I stood still and realized my cock drooped for which I
was grateful. I heard Jones and another man talking then Jones walked over.
"I'll take care of this." He slapped a salve on my back and began rubbing
it in. The smell of the suntan lotion mixed with my male sweat. He coated
my armpits, face, neck and then my bottom and legs. I was turned and he
worked up from my ankles. My cock began to rise as he drew closer and then
my pooched balls were given a slathering. I stood mutely, stiff as a board
while he covered Lucas. The blindfold was removed and he showed us his toy,
a chain five feet long with good-sized dildos at the end.
I shook my head from side to side when he turned me around and bent me over
a railing, kicking my feet wide apart. My heart raced and I swallowed,
unable to accept it, praying silently for rescue. As he greased the things
I noticed its bumps and slight curves. I shut my eyes when something cold
and unyielding pressed against my opening. It instantly entered me, very
deep it seemed to my tight anus. I was raised and he kept one hand on my
pumping chest as he worked it inside me with comments like "almost there"
and "hold on." I felt every curve and irregular surface feature. When a
cold cross bar touched my anus I knew it was in all the way.
"Keep it in, Jere." I stood still, legs wide and he gave my rump a friendly
pinch. I caught my cry of shock and swallowed, drowning in confusion and
dread, tears streaming. In breathless agitation I waited as Lucas was
plugged and heard his reaction, the low moans that grew louder as the thing
sunk deeper. His cock was absolutely rigid and little drops on the
upright, fat knob glistened in the bright sun.
"Open wide!" The ball gag was shoved in and bound to my head. The attached
straps quickly clamped to my ear lobes, nipples, armpits and this time a
strap hung in front and it loop just under my cock head. It was adjusted
for a tight pull upwards. A strap in back looped around the dildo, lifting
it and grinding it in. He gave Lucas the same treatment as I watched. Our
loud groans were almost a chorus and yet the workers talked easily,
completely ignoring our plight. When my wrists were cuffed to my collar the
impact was staggering and I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks.
My anus throbbed and I dared not turn my head for fear of jerking the
clamps. We would not go anywhere without the other. I turned my whole body
rather than my head and the sight of Lucas was riveting. He stood silently,
his prick so swollen it looked obscene. His rump was in constant motion as
he reacted to the endless sensations. Jones returned out blindfolds and
this time plugged our ears plunging us into a world of inner thoughts and
touch. After the heavy boots were laced on us the men dragged us, stumbling,
to the fields. We cried out as the clamps pulled and the metal dildos
bounced inside us.
I could still hear faintly if the speaker was near. Almost all the
conversation centered on the "game." The men had a blast, whooping and
working quickly, aiming from long distances and arguing over how much a
particular shot should count. All of this was without any regard for our
status. We cried out when a missed shot landed on the chain and jerked the
big rod inside us. Although we tried to stay together, inevitably we went
different directions and that only jostled the rods. It was a hellish
punishment, one I would not wish on my worst enemy. When one of our
baskets was filled the other had to stand silently and wait. Side by side we
climbed the ladders, leaning over to empty our load before returning to
work. The heat, the sweat, the smells -- it was all so debilitating.
At times the ball gag was removed and a bottle pressed to my lips. I gulped
greedily and mumbled a low "thanks" as hands rubbed my arms or quickly
pinched my enormous dick head. Was Lucas receiving the same treatment?
The men still dragged us by our cock to the desired position. Being blind
and deaf made my dick more sensitive and it literally raged. I was stung
by the loud cheers and congratulations of the men when one of them made a
difficult shot. At lunch we sat side by side on a log, our asses hanging
over the edge. Someone sat beside Lucas and I heard his sharp intake of
breath, pleading and then noise. Then the presence sat by me and offered a
sandwich. A hand jiggled the metal rod inside me. I detected a tone of
triumph in the voice when he spoke in my ear.
"You going soft on us?" The tip of my cock was flicked lightly and I jerked
back. He put an arm around my shoulder and I trembled as he slowly rubbed my
aching testicles. I felt myself hardening and when he scratched the knob I
felt my cock stand up tall. Would I ever know satisfaction from this
constant desire? His hand was insistent until I shoved him away and he
plopped on the ground. Even through the ear plugs I heard a roar of
laughter. He was close again, a savage voice.
"I was just joking, you bastard, having a little fun." He strode away and I
returned to toil in constant agony. My only solace was that Lucas also
suffered. When work ceased the blindfolds, earplugs and straps were
removed. My anus felt empty. I waited while they voted on Lucas and let
him by with a "NO" vote. I was then led to the spot and my feet guided to
the outlines. My heart raced when I was bent over and the voting started.
Jones kept the tally like that show "Survivor" -- "that's 3 YES and 2 NO".
Then the tide would turn..."that's 4 YES and 5 NO". The tension was
unbearable as I awaited and prayed for mercy. The vote stood at 5 to 5 with
one man left. I heard a snicker and a note of triumph.
"I really want to be fair." Oh fuck, it was the guy I'd pissed off. "I
don't think Jere has lost his old ways. Unfortunately I have to vote YES --
sorry, pal." The excitement was immediate as men jostled for position in
line behind me, those that voted NO just as eager. But another suggestion
rang out made the men loudly excited. Jones pulled Lucas over and handed him
the strap, pointing his finger, looking at me sternly. The slave gave me a
look that chilled my soul, a broad grin on his sweaty, handsome face with
dark bristles. His arms looked strong, very strong.
"Turn around, Jere." I did so, the fear and anxiety rushing like a tidal
wave. "Position!" I squatted low, my body reddening in shame and certain
knowledge of what was about to happen. Jones buckled on a new collar with
three straps. Two straps had cuffs that caught my ankles from the front -- I
could not rise if I wanted. The other strap came under me and I felt the
attached little wooden plug as it eased into my wide-open anus. It shifted
inside me as the strap settled deep in my crack, pulled taut and tightened
to the back of the collar. The plug rocked inside me with every move. Jones
walked around me, double checking bindings and tethers. I was a wreck,
confused and stimulated, sweaty and yet my dick was harder than it had every
been.
"Red fence." I looked in the distance and saw the place. Before anyone
could stop me I took off, wobbling from foot to foot, rushing with all my
might. The plug in my anus pulled in and out with each step, the severity
of the tether forcing me to keep my back straight, my hands bound to the
collar.
The men were yelling at Lucas to hurry and catch up, lay it on good,
reminding him of what would happen if he held back. I heard the
approaching mob and struggled harder.
I was muttering "faster, faster, faster" when the force of the smack knocked
me forward and my cries rang out.
"That fast enough for you?" They continued to scream and I rushed on,
ignoring their presence when another shattering lick swept upwards almost
lifting my ass in the air. I hollered and my eyes stung with tears, barely
able to think with all the noise from the men who ran alongside. I had one
goal in mind, reaching that fucking fence. Deep, throaty cheers came from
every direction and they leaned against one another for support, weakened by
laughter at my frantic waddling. It was the sight of the grinning guy that
got to me, the one who cast the deciding vote, the knowledge that this naked
thrashing was his doing. I heard a sob break but it was drowned out in this
madness.
Lucas was enjoying himself, taking this opportunity to punish an ancient
enemy with impunity. The strap roared with a new intensity and I roared
louder. His powerful arm went high in the air before bringing the strap
crashing with a thunderous explosion. It was a hurricane of smacks and
despite my fevered breath, the blazing pain and sting and the throbbing of
my anus, I kept in position, falling only twice. I was blubbering by the
time I reached the fence, panting in deep, strangled gasps. My tail was
beyond hotness and soreness, seething, cheery red. I'd been given a very
sound thrashing.
A pause followed and Jones unceremoniously lifted my ass to get a closer
look. I relished the small pause, not even caring about the ignominy of this
act. His hand pinched and traced welts and he told Lucas he'd done a "fine
job". He made me turn towards him, still crouching, thighs burning in this
position. My tears rolled down my cheeks but I was past the point of
worrying what someone would think. Jones rubbed my hot, wet scalp and spoke
with enthusiasm.
"You really put your heart into it, Jere. That's the eagerness I want to
see displayed at all times!" The bastard was serious, actually proud of
that awkward jaunt during which my bottom was soundly whipped. I shed
bitter tears, unable to stop. It was so dreadful and I was so tired and so
sore. My bottom was blazing, a torrid, unstoppable heat that would be with
me for at least two days. The men beamed, a big, tough guy crying like a
baby while squatting in the open fields with a bright red tail. I caught a
glimpse at Lucas and to my surprise saw a touch of concern.
"Lucas, get on that side." Jones undid my ankle cuffs, letting the straps
flap. He left the plug inside me. They raised me up and he wrapped an arm
around my shoulder. Lucas's strong arm, the one that had battered my poor
behind, slipped around my waist and we stood for a moment. I put an arm
around their shoulders and looked at them. Jones looked down and I followed
his gaze. My cock literally danced with excitement. I bowed my head,
overcome at the humiliation, and pressed my forehead to his shoulder.
"When we get back, I want you to make sure he gets cleaned up nicely. Got
it?" The sweaty, rank man next to me said, "Yes sir" and his arm tightened
and pulled me close. Our furry legs scraped as our thick curls rubbed.
Jones told me he bet I really wanted to rub my rump, right? I nodded,
ashamed at the admission and he gave me a solid smack.
"What did I tell you about answering correctly?" I yelped and jumped in the
air, "Yes sir" flying from my lips. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him
look at me then almost jokingly he said, "Well, that's just too bad. We'll
let your bottom simmer in the breeze." I made myself take one step in
front of the other as the plug jiggled in and out.
Nights were still bad but my legs were no longer tied up. I was still,
suffering in silence. Sometimes a punished slave was forced to crawl from
bed to bed and give our balls or cock a few licks before moving on. I
remember one guy in particular, a Spanish young man from the countryside.
He exuded masculinity and was the horniest slave I'd ever seen. His cock
was rarely relaxed and he was distraught. He was caught touching himself so
his wrists were bound behind him and all night he licked the private areas
of his fellow slaves. He wept the whole time he was under me but he
obediently obeyed the guard and licked the cum off my burning red knob.
I was Basket Man for several weeks, enduring ordeals each day. A few days
after the "red fence" incident I was standing as my old nemesis, the one
who'd cast the deciding vote, calmly massaged my balls. He loved to torment
me, keep me at the edge but in this case he went too far. I suddenly cried
out and they all turned. I looked at them with horror then thrust into the
air, spurting an enormous jet that landed 10 feet away.
"Stop that now!" I spurted again and again and again until I was dizzy,
drained and almost unaware of my surroundings. Then it dawned on me what I
had done and that my punishment would surely be severe. The men crowded
around, unzipping trousers and chortling when Jones appeared. He asked no
questions but reminded them that it was illegal to give a slave relief
without permission. I said nothing and the men were silent. One week
later Jones fetched me, had me scrubbed squeaky clean. We stopped by his
room on the way to our destination and beside his small bed I saw a picture
of Jones standing between a beautiful Arab woman and the Arab boss who
regarded him fondly. He saw me staring.
"Bayara, my girlfriend...I work with her father. She lives in the capital and
we are to be married in 3 months." He blushed and disappeared in his tiny
bathroom. He carried some deodorant when he emerged. "Raise your arms."
I did so and he looked at me.
"I bet you really had lots of women, right?" I said I had met a few.
"Well, I wanna see a pro at work." What did he mean? I reddened as he
rolled on deodorant but pleasantly surprised when he handed me a fine
European suit, white shirt and expensive shoes remarking it was from another
slave from some time ago. I dared not ask if Nikos had relented and
required my presence. Perhaps there was a crisis or a threat.
"One tough guy from Canada tried to have sex with one of the houris of Mr.
Daniel. He ended up spending a week in the pink facilities with the powder
puff criminals. He may have had muscles and a loud snarl but you should have
seen his expression when I threw him stark naked in a cell with 10 other
guys. A week later he'd asked for protection from one of the big guys. I
came by one night and walked up to his cell. Without a word, the man behind
him threw off the blanket and lifted the Canadian's leg. He was stuffed to
the gills with a thick cock. I made sure to get a nice photo that I threw
away. He thinks I have it and I heard he is now a model citizen!" He
laughed at my revulsion at the idea of being used by those type of men.
"I bet you'd be a BIG hit and get lots of invitations to sleepovers." He
saw my look of instant terror and slapped my back, grinning. "Yep, that
deep voice and body -- looks like you were born with a double dose of
testosterone." I was shaking so badly I could barely manage my tie, the
things they would force me to do, images of being surrounded and dicks
pulled out.
We walked to a new area of the large building. I felt a rush when I smelled
perfume and saw the colors of the wall change to a light violet. Then I
heard the babble of female voices. What in the world was going to happen?
The houri of Mr Daniels were here for the night I was told.
"They need some entertainment, Jere. How does he look, honored houri?" I
heard a lot of "oohs" and "oh my God" or "praise Allah". I was being
led
to a little raised platform at one end and trembled when a woman dared yell
"Show us what you got!" Astonished squeals and delighted giggles broke out
as the others joined in. I stood sweating before this group, many partially
dressed.
"Jere, you heard the ladies. They need some entertainment -- get busy now."
He looked around. "Can we get some music ladies?" An instant later a
sensual Arab melody with drums began an insistent calling, the female singer
sounding as if she were sex herself. I stood there, unable to move and
Jones walked up.
"Jere, you got two choices -- either you put on a nice show for these ladies
or I'm putting you over my knee and spanking your bare bottom right here."
The ensuing commotion and noise was stupendous and I actually blinked
instant tears at the thought. I began to remove my jacket, bouncing a
little as more women filtered into the room, shocked but silently elated at
this free look. I did not see Jones so I stopped moving and simply removed
my coat. The women were yelling "Dance" but I pulled off one shoe and sock.
When I raised my foot to remove the other shoes I cried our as heat and
pain burst across my rump. It knocked me to the floor and there was Jones
with a wooden paddle, pointing his finger and scolding me for not
performing.
The women howled, yelling things like "you bad boy" and "spank him". I
feared that licking so I stood, shaking and really began weaving and wagging
my hips as he watched closely, paddle in hand. I felt like a fucking fool
doing this dumb strip tease but my senses were exploding. The scent, the
sight of these sensual women, their feminine laughter, lips, hair -- it
literally crushed any other thought from my mind. Sex, sex, sex was all I
could think about and my cock ached for release. The women got more forward
and when my shirt came off two Oriental women told Jones to make me come
closer and bend down. They each placed a mouth on a nipple and I thought I
had died and gone to heaven.
Jones told them I had not been able to have "sexual activity" in a month and
they laughed at my red, huffing face that proclaimed my raw need.
Humiliation, excitement, it all hit when my trousers came off and my shorts
bulged almost obscenely. They almost held their breath when the final
barrier was removed and my cock jumped up, a gigantic 9 inch slap of pulsing
meat. For a second, there was absolute silence then sudden laughter and
screams and a rush of comments.
"Position!" I trembled as I squatted before these women, as exposed as
possible, my dick trying to reach the ceiling. He turned me around and
raised my rump high, kicked my legs apart. In the silence he asked for
volunteers and two breathless nymphs, squealing in delight, hurried over.
Each was directed to grab a cheek and pull me open, then to part the thick
curls with their little fingers. A gasp went up from the crowd when my pink
anus came on view.
"It's winking to you, ladies." They exploded with raucous revelry as I
gasped. Fingers stroked my nuts and the red stripe across my flank. I was
raised and turned, unable to stop the silent tears and heard "ah" and "look,
he's crying". He pointed to a throne-like chair in the middle of the room.
I looked at him, pleading.
"Please, don't do this to me." He grinned and squeezed my neck and waved
his arm.
"Jere, you're the lady's man, the stud with a different gal each day. These
nice ladies hardly ever see a man, much less a real hunk. I bet they can't
wait to get a closer look." I took a deep gulp and walked like a robot,
wincing with each step as my hardon waved high.
"Alyssa, come here -- it's that gorgeous new slave." I shivered as the
word
spread and more women entered the room. I jumped when a hand rubbed my
rump.
"He's been spanked!" The twitters were almost too much and I locked my jaw
but was defenseless against those soft palms that stroked my rump so
sensuously. "Look at that cock -- more fit for a camel. We got a real man
here." I sat and he told me I better act nice or else. When the women
closed around me I stared straight ahead and gripped the arms of the chair.
"Open those legs wide, slave." I did so, trying desperately to control my
rampaging cock but then the little nuzzles began on my neck, the licks to my
nips, hands rubbed my legs and I groaned and gasped with torturous pleasure.
One of the bolder ones told me to raise my hips and as I raised myself in
the air her nail ran lightly deep in my crack. She squealed with delight.
"Oh, he's so hairy and it's moist and hot back here." My startled
"Ohhh!"
drew laughter as she continued scratching insistently until she wiggled
inside. Her finger was deep inside me as the other women watched! I
squirmed and grunted so they made me stand, hands behind my head, and took
turns wiggling little fingers up my butt.
"Dance, you handsome thing!" I began swinging my tail wildly as a finger
wiggled inside me. "look, this thing is leaking all over the place." One
of them swiped her finger across the top of my cock and held it out, making
me lick. I was kept on the very edge, breaking out in sweat and heaving
like I'd run the Marathon. Tongues thrust in my mouth or licked my ears.
Hands raked my broad back and rubbed up and down my hairy legs. It was
sensory overload and I was barely aware when Jones returned.
"Have fun?" I stared at him, exhausted and beyond speech. "Jere, why
didn't you come? I told you days ago you were getting your chance today --
all it took was one stroke." I was stuttering, flabbergasted, protesting.
"Jere, your hands were not bound."
"But, but, you didn't....oh please, let me come now...I'll be quick..." He
smiled and I felt scalding tears when they laughed at my desperation.
"Hands behind head, let's go back." He quickly bound a cock ring and we
stepped out. My tears streamed even faster when we emerged into the
darkness. His hand rested on my shoulder as I sniffled in such desperate
yearning.
"I know you find it hard to believe, but this is making you a better slave
and a productive worker." I lowered my head, shaking it slowly. "Yes,
Jere, learning discipline and not experiencing discipline is a difficult
lesson." I was beyond his words though. He ordered me to look at him and
he stood in front of me, looking up and down and smiling slightly at the
sight of my bobbing dick. This young trainer knew his territory - when to
put on pressure and when to lighten up. He would one day become a successful
CEO.
"I promise that tomorrow you will be allowed to come." He held out his hand
and we shook hands like business partners instead of whatever ghastly
relationship we had. I could not help but blush deeply as I shook this
fully-dressed confident young man's hand inches above my angry cock. I was
bound for the night and woke to another day.
I was sent to wash walls and mounted the ladders to reach the top part.
Some of the women of the houri passed by and gave my leg a familiar caress
causing my cock to come to life all over again. Even the faint scent of
perfume had my chest rumbling and my loins heating --it wasn't fair!
Suddenly Jones stood in front of me while I was on the ladder and quickly
bound my cock and balls in a snug cock ring.
"You got company, Jere." I trembled, stepped down and when I turned I
thought this had to be hell. Before me stood a group of royals and I had
sent them all to the Georgia island. Jones threw an arm around my shoulder
and for some reason my cock pumped with a renewed vigor. This was
excruciating, being walked to meet my jury -- men in expensive Western suits,
respectable men with drinks and cigars. I spotted Nikos lean over and
whisper to Marcus who looked at me, chuckled and nodded. The little
exchange made me shiver.
"You know everyone, right?" I nodded, whispered a hoarse "Yes sir" as he
playfully pinched my chin. He beamed and tried to pull me even closer to
the group and when I resisted gave my bottom a hearty loud smack. I cried
out in utter embarrassment, as much for my position as my nakedness and
stiffness. I wore nothing but work shoes and the cock ring and my black
body hair only magnified my sturdy, exposed body. My pubes were once again
long and luxurious as were my armpits. Worse, I had on the cap sitting
cockeyed.
"Position!" I looked at him, pleading silently but he smiled and patted my
head. Slowly and in the utmost excruciating manner I slowly crouched before
their grinning faces, interlacing my fingers, bouncing in shame. Their
chuckles and observations shook me to the core and when they walked around
some almost knocked me over forcing me to spread my legs any wider.
"Hey pal!" I opened my eyes at the closeness of the sound. Nikos knelt
right in front of me, facing me closely. His gleaning white teeth of his
broad smile were the first things I saw. "You really got in the swing of
things. When Jones said straighten up, you took him seriously." He flicked
the tip of my cock and I groaned loudly. The other royals gathered closer.
"We're having a little party tonight and guess who's the guest of honor? I
bet you can't wait." I did not reply as I bobbed, standing on my tiptoes as
I squatted, trying not to move. He pinched my nipples and jerked on my
chest hair then traced down my chest. His finger was deep in the thick trail
and then he scratched lazily in my thick pubes as I caught a cry. I dared
to look at him and his grin was cold and tight. Fingers rubbed my furry sac
lightly making me groan then he flicked my dangling right testicle hard. I
gasped at the sudden pain as he softly massaged the left one, rolling it
around in the furry sac. He let it drop and gave it a hard flick. I gasped
loudly again but did not break my stance or cry out. Nikos pressed closer
until our foreheads touched.
"I heard you ain't shot your pistol in weeks. Jones told me you even
started bawling, begging to let you come. That'll be a high rental in the
royal disk library!" I was breathing heavy, trying not to yield to my
emotions as they flooded me. Jones gave me a small nudge and I went
waddling down the road past them to catcalls, whistles and promises of
revenge.
I was bathed, fed and bound until the party. Throughout I begged Jones not
to do this, I'd give him any amount of money, I couldn't go, wouldn't go but
here I was outside the large door listening to the sounds from within. I
fell to my knees, begging him one last time not to be taken before them but
he shook his head and gabbed my arm, lifting me up to stand. I knew we
could be heard and I hollered when he gave me a loud smack with a loud order
to move. I hopped out to amused giggles and noticed that unlike before this
was a purely masculine affair -- no women around. A little stage was set up
behind a drawn curtain and my mind raced with all sorts of possibilities. I
was situated on a little square table so that my elbows were between my
knees, my back arched high. I stayed that way thru the meal which went on
for over an hour. They sat at three tables in a "U" shape and I was in the
middle. One third could see my open rear end, another third my distended
cock and the final third caught sight of my distraught face. At last the
dishes were cleared away and my heart raced faster as I detected a change in
the atmosphere.
Nikos arose and gave a little speech thanking Mr. Daniels although he was
not present. They were on a state visit but also had another purpose, a need
to punish those who acted against their leader. He looked at me as if
waiting for an answer then smiled and continued with introductions of all
the royals -- counting Marcus and himself it was 10. He introduced Troy and
Jones who stood awkwardly, looking out of place in their suits and ties.
Both were popular with the royals, charismatic men who knew the fine art of
smoozing. Then he stopped and looked at me.
"Let the fun begin!" The curtains rolled back and a low drum roll was
heard. I stared at the sight -- 10 chairs across the small stage, each with
an upright dildo slightly bigger than the previous one. And in front of it
all was an old-fashioned whipping post, a rough pole with cuffs at the top
and widespread cuffs at the bottom. My skin crawled as hands dragged me off
the table over to the whipping post. Although I struggled my wrists were
secured and my feet spread wide apart and bound. I was primed before the
crowd as Nikos pulled a number from a bowl.
"Number Seven". Stanislav, a red-haired Polish prince, shouted and ran
forward. I kept turning trying to see the proceedings and suddenly a hand
slapped my bare bottom. It was Jones spreading a thickening agent that
would protect my rear end but increase the sting of the licks. Stanislav
grinned as he chucked his coat and tie, rolled up his sleeves and grabbed
the leather strap from the post. The men were already yelling for him to
lay it on good, to make sure I felt it. Nikos came over and said
distinctly, "You get 7 swings, make em count." I trembled as I waited,
naked, vulnerable, my rear end in the perfect position for discipline. My
head hung low.
Whooosh! The explosion started things off and my head popped up high. I
caught myself right before a second loud smack resounded in the hall. I
pressed against the rough pole, rubbing it as another lick split the air.
Four others followed, harsh blows that were almost deafening in volume. I
did not make a sound. He received a round of good-natured applause and I
felt my hands and feet released. I was pulled to the first chair, the one
with the smallest dildo and plumped down. It went in me a good 4 inches as
Stanislav stepped up, casually unbuckled his trousers and dropped them
around his ankles. He fixed his boxers under his large balls and there was
his cock jutting from the red bush. I understood I was to suck his cock in
front of all his royal kinsmen. My heart was beating so loud I heard nothing
else and then a man's cock was inside my mouth.
"Suck, Jere, like it's a lollipop!" I cast a helpless last look at Nikos
who was grinning widely as my mouth opened to a large "O" around the cock.
My tears streamed at this indignity and I tried to swallow and tasted the
leaking fluid. It shoved insistently, rubbing the roof of my mouth, a short
but thick piece of meat that seemed so enormous. I heard the amused voice
of Nikos.
"Good thing you like this so much cause you're gonna eat dick all night
long." He softly rubbed the back of my head as I ran my tongue over the
head as order and the shaft rammed in and out faster and faster. He came
almost immediately and when he was done I had to open my mouth as proof that
I'd swallowed the foul-tasting stuff. I breathed deeply but was again
dragged back to the pole.
"Number Five!" I knew it was Carlos from his guttural yell. This guy was
an animal, someone I had not liked and he knew it. He thrashed me
unmercifully then I squirmed as the dildo thrust up me while I choked on his
monster cock and the dark brown hair that grew halfway down the shaft. I
tried to raise my flaming rump and kept gagging over and over until he
pulled out and spurted all over my face. Before I could get my bearings I
was pulled up and heard a loud "Number Six".
I lost it with this guy (Dominic) and began yelping at the lashes, then
screaming. I tried to suck as hard as I could to end this ordeal quickly
and the men laughed at my pitiful eagerness. My efforts drew cries of
delight and exclamations from those getting serviced.
"Man, he's going at it like his life depended on it -- what a fucking cock
suck!" The parade of man meat was overwhelming -- hairy crotches from blond
to black, dicks thick, thin, long, short curved to the left and right. My
rear end blazed and I began weeping knowing that I was going to be mounted
for yet another thrashing and that was not the end of it.
"Number Ten." Benito, that dumb Italian jock was strong as an ox. He was
always one for practical jokes and horsing around rather than working. Was
he the fifth or six one? He lifted me off the six inch dildo with a loud
plop and I careened to the post.
"Hey, where you going, buddy?" I turned, confused. "Get over here, we're
good pals so we're gonna get all nice and cosy with one another." He put
his foot on the frame of the whipping post and patted his knee. I shook my
head slowly, my tears a flood but he pulled me over his knee so that I faced
the men. Someone took my picture and if one word could describe my face it
would have been utter moritification.
"This dude needs a good spanking -- got a good paddle around?" Indeed they
did and he wailed the daylights out of my sizzling butt, gigantic licks
right over his knee like a school kid that had me wiggling and kicking my
feet madly. The men were fired, fists in the air, pounding the tables,
laughing so hard they were having to hold each other up. He loved to show
off and when he plopped me down on the next size up I hardly felt the dildo
for the eruption on my rump. In seconds I had swallowed his monster prick
that was eagerly thrusting for release. He held me by my ears, pulling
until I choked.
I thought it would never end. They stopped for dessert and after-dinner
drinks leaving me sitting on the 8th biggest dildo, my anus itching,
backside raw. Stanislav walked over with a mean grin and without a word,
unzipped his fine trousers and hoisted his cock out for a second helping. I
looked at him and he smiled. As he sipped his coffee and talked office
politics he got a second blow job before every guy in the room. This time
he lasted a lot longer. After the last guy came, Troy, the frowning blond
overseer walked over slowly with the paddle. He looked down at my distress
as I squirmed on the biggest dildo, being split in half.
"Position!" I rose and it popped out. Then I squatted and with a resounding
smack I was off. The sting defied description. I doubted that my bottom
would ever cool down and it had to be swollen. Despite my utter exhaustion
I scurried away to the utter delight of the rowdy men who were yelling for
me to run left, right or turn around. I cried loudly and hollered at each
hard lick. Snot ran down my face and I felt like I was going mad from the
paddle and the roar of the men in the small room. I paused for just a
second to catch my breath and the paddle landed full force. I shrieked and
he chased me all over as the men screamed instructions for both of us. When
I got close to one of them they'd hold me in place long enough for a
thunderous smack which made me buck and take off again.
I was barely aware when I was dragged over to the last chair again and
plopped down on the last dildo with a screech. Again it seemed bigger than
possible and I tried to rise just to relieve pressure on my tail where every
nerve rested on the crimson, flaming surface. Jones came over and held me
down.
"I told you you'd get a chance to jerk off -- now's your time." I looked
up
horrified at what he had said but noticed the other men standing in a
circle, watching closely and waiting. Sobs kept escaping as I grabbed my
flaccid member and tried to get it hard. After a minute of constant but
useless flaying Nikos stepped up and pointed his finger.
"You have one minute to come or well have another little chase scene!" I
was so desperate that I began rising up and down on the dildo, literally
fucking myself and sending new life to my cock and suddenly I was hardening!
The men were screaming and it seemed half wanted to me to succeed while
the other half looked forward to Nikos's threatened punishment. They began
the countdown and just at the point of explosion I was lifted up and carried
to the table.
I was tossed on my back and my legs pulled back so far my long, thick cock
nudged my mouth. A large pillow was placed under my head and a hand pressed
down on my scarlet, swollen hips. Suddenly my twitching cock eased inside
my mouth and I squealed like a pig when flashbulbs went off capturing the
whole thing. Nikos leaned over on one side, Troy the other, and their faces
rubbed mine.
"Now, Jere, you get your chance to cum. You got the biggest cock in the
room between your lips so give that bad boy a nice polishing." I tried to
speak but my knob was so huge it precluded any conversation. It tasted
different than the others since the built-up sperm was very bitter and
thick. I cried but despite the evening and the pain and the humiliations I
felt a growing urge in the whispered silence, one that soon became apparent
to one and all. They all watched as Nikos hopped on the table and dropped
his trousers and boxers in a flash. He leaned over me and thrust inside to
the hilt, his face above so that he could report my progress. My ass
exploded in pain when he moved.
"He's close...struggling...come on, man, suck your pecker head....yeah....YEAH!
He's spurting fellows, swallow his own spunk!" I had no choice but to
swallow it and it gushed in strong, hot jets of thick, strong liquid that
almost choked me. Then I heard a loud "God damn, I'm coming" and he bounced
before drooping low. Our eyes met and the picture someone took afterwards
showed my astonishment, the long line of cum from the sides of my mouth as
Nikos smiled, churning inside me. He lowered his head down and whispered.
"This is what you call getting royally fucked, Jere." He spurted again and
I felt it. I sucked myself dry and was fully fucked and when he moved. I
curled into a ball, unable to move. There was talk all around me and
occasional taunts and pinches. I was in a daze when Jones led me to the
showers where I was scrubbed. The feeling of numbness remained as I moved
in a daze, my tail blazing and smoldering. He shoved me in a room and I saw
Nikos at his desk. Jones pushed me to a corner, bent me over and shoved my
nose in the crack. He kicked my legs wide apart and I shook. I knew better
than to speak or move.
Nikos continued to work, taking a late-night phone call, ordering a veto of
a stupid spending bill, declining an invitation to a party. At last I heard
a loud sound outside the door and then Jones and Troy stumbled in. They
both held bottles of Heineken and looked flush, laughing and snarling.
Nikos chuckled and walked over to the closet. He came back with a long strap
and I shivered when he centered me in front of the floor to ceiling mirror.
I begged him not to do anything else.
"Lock those hands behind your head and spread those legs!" His voice was
harsh and I saw the pair watching, two clean-cut American young men who had
taught me so much in the past few weeks. They looked strange in their
suits and plopped down beside each other on the couch. Troy flung an arm
behind Jones and the two toasted my fate, legs spread, leaning back, eyes
half shut.
"One more dance, Jere. This time you are going to really move that ass for
us, you understand?" I choked out a pitiful "Yes sir" and waited. The other
two were cackling and then the strap leaped out and exploded across my left
buttock. I screamed and began weaving my tail from side to side as another
loud lash popped the underside of my ass, absolutely raw flesh, the nerves
on fire.
"Swing that red butt, Jere!" Troy shook his beer, leaned forward and let
it spray over my bottom just as the strap resounded. I shrieked and really
began wagging my hips. It went on and on, I thought it would never cease.
I rotated my ass in circles and popped it up and down. I cried and
screamed, pleading with him to show mercy. When he finally stopped hands
pushed me in the corner where I trembled and bawled -- what else could I do?
In fact, I was grateful for the opportunity to rest. The trio talked for a
while, ignoring me and my blazing rump and finally I felt a firm grip on my
crimson flesh.
"See you tomorrow, Jere." Jones tousled my short locks and he walked out
with Troy as they jostled one another, having fun. I heard their loud
voices in the hallway. Nikos did not lecture nor retread past history.
Instead he pulled off his shirt and coat and hung them on a hanger. His
pants followed and then he was naked. I heard him brushing his teeth before
he had a five minute shower, emerging red and beaming. It was no seduction
but rather a case of getting the job done. He pushed me on the bed.
"Come on, get those scarlet hips up high and keep those knees wide apart."
He grabbed my waist without explanation and poked with his now-stiff dick
until he found the spot. Oh God he was so huge. I cried out but I had been
stretched over the last few hours and he entered. I moaned loudly when his
thick curls rubbed my raw rump and he thrst, fully impaled inside me. My
ass was so sore every movement sent new bursts of pain to my nerves. His
mouth was at my ear, a snarl of triumph.
"See Jere, you can serve your leader in lots of ways." He shoved and I
cried out, utter agony. His hand reached over to douse the light and he
slowly shoved my hips down until I lay flat on the bed. His strong arms
wrapped around my torso and he ground in tighter.
"Time to sleep, Jere." I gave a low keening sound and took a deep breath
as I grasped his words -- we would sleep like this, his huge prick stuffed
all the way inside me, a permanent violation unlike anything else. "I hear
you're quite the worker, Jere. Real popular with the crew. You were always
so good at the bullshit side of things." He rose, pulling out slightly then
plunged in deeper with a satisfying "Ah". His lips were at my ears,
whispering torments and I pitifully begged his forgiveness. This excited him
and he began churning faster and faster until he clutched me ferociously and
his cock began jerking and pulsing, streams of juice pouring into my rectum.
He fell asleep in this position and so did I. When I woke early the next
morning he was on his back.
"Need to piss, Jere?" I was startled and answered, "Yes sir". He rose,
unbuckled my cuffs and we walked to the large bathroom. I sat on the
toilet as he stepped in the shower, the whole thing open without privacy.
I waited for the next awful command but he took his time, keeping me
wondering and anxious. He stepped out of the shower and dried quickly as I
sat on the commode then he dropped the towel and stepped up.
"Better get the day started off right." He grinned and thrust out and I
took the flaccid cock between my lips. It began hardening instantly and
soon he was rocking back and forth, a slow but steady mouth fuck. When he
spewed he rubbed my head like a little dog and told me to scrub off. This
closeness we once shared was gone, replaced with a stiff, uncaring, distant
attitude.
"Eight more months to go, Jere. I'm trying hard to get you out of here, I
really am." My heart fluttered and leaped. He was buttoning his cuffs and
gave me a look of such utter smugness that I froze. "Yeah, I made a
mistake putting you here." I nodded and he pulled on his shoes and combed
his hair.
"I'm working on a way to get you away from these desert nomads to a more
civilized place." I jumped at the firm knock on the door. "Go answer it,
Jere." Blushing I did so and an Arab guard stood there. The young man
grinned at my nakedness and told me come with him. I turned to Nikos in
sudden fear but he walked over squeezed my shoulder, guiding me out the
door. His smile was wintry and ominous. The guard pulled out a yellow slip
of paper and spoke as we marched down the hall.
"New orders, slave. You're being transferred." I breathed easier,
thanking Nikos that he had kept his word and had gotten me moved from this
mid-boggling place. Nikos drove past in a limousine, paused for me to thank
him. He grinned and waved and the guard gave me a slight shove. I was
guided toward a military transport and asked the guard if he was sure this
was correct.
"Positive," he beamed. "You get a free ride today." My balls bounced and
my
cock hardened at the mere thought of this opportunity to masturbate. I
climbed the ladder eagerly and stepped inside. I stopped at the sight of
several grinning soldiers in fatigues who had lascivious grins. Another
soldier hopped on behind me and I leaned out to call to the guard.
"There's a mistake here. This is a military van on its way back to base." A
hand clapped on my shoulder and a grinning Arab young man turned me around.
"No mistake, pal. We were told we'd be getting a new slave at our battalion
this week, a transfer from the oasis. Looks like you fit the bill, you and
that hardon." I slowly turned and assumed the stance, quivering in
consternation, feet wide. Right in front of me laughing recruits were
unbuckling their fatigues, talking to a buddy and sitting in a circle. A
kick to my rear end propelled me to a half-hard cock in a shock of black
curls. I felt eager hands pinch my swollen, blazing rump and a dick entered
my mouth. It was the beginning of the end.